Doubt and Devotion

I’m a day late, but I’m joining up with Amber and Kate for Doubt and Devotion this morning.

 

I’ve been fighting with myself, trying to find something to write for these Sunday Doubt and Devotion posts. I want so much to be a part of them, but my brain always fights back when I try to think of questions, stories, or anything to talk about. So I’ve decided to just sort of write, and see what comes out.

 

I’ve always just believed. Like, if you asked me if I believed in God, I would say yes. And if you asked me why, I would say, “I just do.” It hasn’t really been until we got married, just over six months ago, that I started wanting to grow my faith and to understand it better.

 

The morning after our wedding, my husband said something to me that really touched me, and it made me want to better understand. He hadn’t been wanting to wear a wedding ring, because he has bad arthritis on his hands (so his fingers swell up often), and he works in the restaurant business, so he can’t wear his ring during work hours.

 

But the morning after the wedding, we woke up and he was playing with the ring we had used for the ceremony, and he slipped it on to wear for the day. When he saw me noticing, he looked down at it, then at me, and said, “I was thinking about it, and we made a promise in front of God, our family, and our friends. I want to honor that promise and wear a symbol of it.”

 

I almost cried. It was so sweet to me. Originally, the plan was for him to get a tattoo of some sort that would symbolize our marriage. We were having a difficult time thinking of something that would do that well, without being something that he would regret at some point. We both agree that it isn’t very smart to get someones name, face, or anything too personal like that (sorry if you have it, we just disagree), so when the wedding came around and we still hadn’t thought of anything, we had pretty much given up. When he said this to me, my heart almost burst.

 

So I guess that’s the story of how I started actually caring about my faith. For me, God had always been in my life. I don’t come from a particularly religious family. My mom believes, my dad chooses not to think about it, and my brother likes to fight against it. We went to Sunday School and church when we were young, then as we got older we got busy and my faith pretty much just became a part of my daily life (as it should), where I would speak to God from the comfort of my own brain, anywhere I was at, not just in church.

 

And I’m so thankful that I’ve found a man who has an open heart, and is willing to take in and learn. He grew up in a family that are all strong of faith, but in incredibly mixed ways. His mother is one of the sweetest, kindest women I know. She is incredibly involved in her church and she spends almost every weekend working at the soup kitchen and helping those in her community. She’s also very open to different ideas, thoughts, and feelings on the matter. Her belief is that if there’s love in your heart, you’re doing something right.

 

The other side of his family is very “By The Good-Book” and lives the word of the bible. This side can be a little harder to relate to if you have a more open view of your faith. He grew up not really caring or thinking about it. For him to open his heart now, because we feels like God was a part of us finding each other makes tears come to my eyes.

 

Thank you for letting me share this little bit. I hope I can get these out on Sundays from now on. I’m also excited to be a part of Ambers blog bible studies that started last Friday.

 

Come by and hang out!